Page 76 of Reckless Love

Her admission is a shot of pain and a wash of pleasure. The idea that our relationship was that ingrained in how she saw herself is thrilling, but it also goes against everything I left believing, and it’s hard to reconcile those realities.

I meant nothing.

I meant everything.

“I don’t know what to say to that,” I admit, my voice gruff.

“Being along for the ride probably doesn’t make sense to you. I thought I knew what I wanted, and then you left. Turns out I had no idea. I was directionless and lost.” She lets out a little laugh. “You were always there. For eight years, if I had a problem, you helped me solve it. My own little life navigation system.”

“Then Celia took over.”

Ava swallows and nods slowly. “Except when you were helping me solve my problems, it never felt like you were trying to control me. More like…” She stares across the room, clearly searching for the right words. “Like you were standing behind me, ready to fuck anyone up that messed with me.” She lets out a watery laugh. “I look at my life now, and I think my mom just fucked me up.”

“Do you want to know what I see when I look at you?” I ask gently.

“More than anything.”

“A great mother. Involved and loving. Interested in who her son is as a person. A kind, compassionate boss who tries to do right by her employees. A successful businesswoman. A faithful wife who tried her best to make a loveless marriage work.”

“Really?” she squeaks out.

“Really.” I kiss the back of her hand. “Truly.”

“You’re being awfully nice to me when I don’t think I deserve it.”

“That’s the drugs talking. Normally, you’d tell me you definitely deserve it.”

That earns me a little chuckle and then a wince. “Not enough drugs to laugh. Maybe I’m turning over a new leaf.”

“Maybe I am too,” I say. “When I left, I told myself I was running toward a new life, a different future. But it was never a future I wanted, not one I wholeheartedly embraced, not even one I’ve missed. I’ve never missed any of it, but I missed you the minute my apartment door closed that night, and I’ve missed you every day since. If you’d died and I hadn’t said that to you…I needed to say that to you.”

Tears tumble down her cheeks, and I sweep them off with my thumb. When they keep falling in silence, I cross the hospital room to grab the tissue box before setting it on the bed, passing her a few, and taking her hand again.

“I was careless with your heart and my words, and it changed both our lives forever. I’m so sorry. So sorry. I fucked it all up. If I leave Raul, he’ll take my company, and he’ll take my son.” Her words are thick with unshed tears. “And if I start sobbing right now, they are definitely going to have to sedate me. But I want—”

“Mommy?” a small voice calls from the bed next to me. “Is that you, Mommy?”

She takes a long sniff and frantically wipes her eyes. “Landon, my love.” Her voice is thick, and I squeeze her hand in reassurance before she gathers herself enough to say, “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve missed you, Mommy. Can I have a cuddle?”

Ava’s eyes widen on me, clearly not sure how to respond.

“Just a second, buddy,” I say. At the door, I poke my head out to chat with the nurse on the night shift. The last thing I want to do is reinjure either of them, but I also think they need what Landon’s asked for. As a kid, whenever I hurt myself, only my mom could truly make it better, and Ava’s that kind of mom to Landon too.

Two nurses come in, and they very carefully shift Ava over to the side of her bed. Then they nod to me, and I lift Landon into a bridal carry, steering his IV fluids with my hand over to Ava’s bed. Gently, I lay Landon beside Ava.

“You have to be very careful, buddy,” I say. “Curl into your mom, but don’t press on her. She’s still recovering too.”

“He can’t sleep there,” the nurse says to me at the door. “But as long as you’re gentle and careful, what you’ve done is okay for short stints. I imagine it’s been a pretty scary time for both of them.”

Seeing them together, on the path to a full recovery, stitches something inside me that’s felt shredded and loose since I got the call from Owen, as though nothing would ever be the same again.

Maybe our lives won’t be, and I don’t think I want them to be, but I no longer believe our futures will be worse.

Hope begins to bud in me, and I really hope I’m right to water it.

Chapter Twenty-Seven